


Exorcist for Hire: Specializes in Asshole Ghosts

by Hino



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: A little fun thing because I can have taht, AU - Ghost Hunter, Gen, Ghosts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-29 14:23:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10855830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hino/pseuds/Hino
Summary: Ryou runs a little exorcism business, although he tends to prefer talking ghosts out of their haunts. Everything goes rather smooth, until he's called to a woman's house to deal with a particularly stubborn ghost who does his best to ridicule and embarrass him.And maybe, even get attached.





	1. Apparently This Ghost Is Pretty Damn Spooky

The telephone rang, sharp and shrill, through the morning air. No sunlight streamed in, all windows having their shutters drawn and curtains closed. It made the room seem more like it was midnight, as opposed to nine am on a busy Monday morning. 

As the phone continued to ring, another sound came along. It was a groan, a sound that started out low and slowly rose in both pitch and intensity. It was a groan of someone who got barely enough sleep, and to have their precious hours lowered even more needed a solid justification. The bedroom door opened, and out stumbled a young boy, more zombie than human at that point. His feet dragged lazily across the carpet, fibres tickling his skin and playing with his sleepy nerves as he reached for the phone, finally stopping the damn thing from shrieking.

“Bakura’s Spirit Banishment,” he mumbled into the phone, raising a fist to rub at his eyes. “Spirits removed sooner than you can say ‘Haunted House’. How can I he-aaaaaah-lp you?” The middle of his word was interrupted with a yawn, tears springing up in the corner of his eyes. 

On the other end of the line, a young woman spoke, nervous and uneasy. She sounded as if she’d exhausted all her options, calling out of a desperate need. “I think there’s a spirit in my house,” she explained.

Ryou bit his tongue. He very much wanted to answer with “Of course, and that’s why you called this number,” but instead he managed to respond with a very civil “Can you tell me what’s happening?”

“Well...” the woman trailed off, trying to gather her thoughts. Patiently, Ryou waited. He padded over to the couch and sat down, pulling the thick quilt he’d left there from a movie night around himself. It was snug and comfortable, and he felt himself falling asleep against the couch arm. He’d almost fallen back into that restful void when the woman spoke again, jolting him back into a state of semi-consciousness. “There’s been slamming doors, rattling windows, blood pouring out of the walls, ominous laughter, a child crying, loud screaming, declarations of revenge and murder, among other things.”

While he might have been on the verge of sleeping before, what the woman had said made Ryou sit up, sleep forgotten about. “And you... only just thought of calling?”

There was a beat of silence. “I called a priest,” she said in a quiet voice. “And several other Ghost Hunters. They all turned tail and ran. Told me it was useless.”

Ghost Hunters running from something like this made Ryou pause. Did he want to take this job? If it was scaring off others, what made him fit for this position? With a sigh that he took no care to muffle, he spoke. “Can I have your address and details please?”

 

He scribbled the information down on a notepad and tossed it aside as he bid a polite goodbye to the woman. As soon as he’d hung up, Ryou sunk into the couch, pulling the quilt over his head. It was so warm here, and ghosts didn’t dare come to his apartment. The charms he’d put up on the walls kept them at bay, as did the cabinet of spirit deterring items. Plus, it was dark here. It still felt like night, and the blanket’s warmth was trying to drag him back into that soothing rest he still needed. The previous night had been spent hunting down the stubborn ghost of a child who refused to leave their haunt without their teddy bear.

After what he’d thought to be ten minutes, Ryou pried himself free of the quilt. A clock across the room shone with red numbers, informing him it was half past eleven, and his nap had not been ten minutes. Another long droning groan left his mouth as he got up, forcing himself into the bathroom.

The light in there was blinding, making him screech momentarily as he transitioned from midnight black to mid-morning sun. Still, Ryou knew the way around his apartment like the back of his hand, and he stripped down while his eyes adjusted, making it into the shower as his vision returned.

Part of him wondered why he still did the Ghost Hunting business. He’d picked it up years ago, mere weeks after his mother and sister had passed away in a crash. It was a coping mechanism at the time, finding solace in the wandering dead, hearing their stories, helping them move on, just like he wanted to move on. Eventually it stopped being about his family, having long given up on seeing their wandering spirits, and it just became a means of passing the time. Go to school, talk to some ghosts, sleep, repeat. 

As he grabbed a handful of shampoo and worked it into his hair, he thought about dropping out of this work. Ghosts were dangerous, and it had done nothing for his social life. He was known for miles as the weird ghost kid, rumoured to read your future in tea leaves, and call the dead to do his bidding. That was wrong, of course. Ryou did tarot readings, and the dead didn’t do anything they weren’t interested in. More than once, he’d asked them to wreak havoc on a bully, only to have them laugh at him for being so weak.

“We won’t be here forever,” he mumbled, remembering their words. They were right too. Ryou rarely knew a ghost longer than three months before somehow helping them pass into the next world. By the time he’d won their respect, they were on the way out. Of course they wouldn’t help him with trivial human things.

Combing the conditioner through his hair, Ryou sighed. Of course, the reason he stayed in the business was that fleeting joy of being useful. He’d cleared more than enough places of spirits, both kind and malicious, both for human and ghostly benefit. Plus, the money was good. It kept him fed and clothed, and supported his unhealthy gaming habit that took up more than half his dedicated sleeping time. Still, that moment of pure gratefulness on their faces when Ryou had done his job was more than enough to keep him going.

 

The water had started running cold when he left the shower, drying off quickly and wrapping the towel around his waist as he went to tame his hair. When it was wet, it was like a soggy mop, haphazardly plopped onto his head. It was also the perfect time to brush it, seeing as it was mostly unknotted. With minimal effort, Ryou brushed it all neatly and tied it back, pulling it into a ponytail. To add to the look, he grabbed a sky-blue headband and slid it into his hair, making sure to keep his signature fringe on display. It wasn’t for practicality, but fashion. Someone had once mentioned it made him look cute, and ever since, he’d added one whenever he put up his hair.

Moving into the bedroom, he dressed quickly, throwing on some navy blue capris and his blue and white striped shirt. He owned only one of them, but kept it clean enough that people merely thought he had several. It was a little lie he was proud of, although part of him shook its head in disgust at wearing the same shirt two days in a row. Slipping on a baggy brown jacket, Ryou moved out into the living room, digging through the various cabinets that lined the walls. One of them was a china cabinet, although he had many action figurines posed in there instead of pretty plates. The others contained things he needed for work, including holy water, salt, talismans, books, and other essentials. They were shoved into his large pockets, rough but neat, without bending or breaking any of the items. Ryou had handled these enough to know their strength and shape, knowing they would withstand his harsh treatment.

Next he grabbed his bag, already full of more intense banishment items, along with ritual books and other things he’d need. Slinging that over his shoulder, he entered the kitchen, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl before heading to the front door to put on his shoes and pack his keys and wallet. The darkness of the house called him back, begged him to stay, and with great reluctance, Ryou opened the door and let the sunlight flood his apartment. He hissed once again at the blinding light and took a moment to compose himself before breaching the doorway and stepping outside of his apartment, kicking the door shut and rushing off as it clicked.

 

The thing about seeing ghosts was once you had the ability, you noticed just how many there were in the world. 

Ryou had made it down the apartment staircase, out of the lobby, and onto the street. In this time, he had met the spirit of a toddler roaming the halls, three angry french ghosts smoking in the stairwell, looking like unfortunate backpackers who’d come over to Japan on their last holiday, and the translucent forms of several goldfish swimming around the lobby’s chandelier light. Out on the street, it got worse.

As he walked down the street towards the address he’d scribbled down on his notepad earlier, he saw more spirits. Some of them were beings he knew how to help, ghosts lurking on street corners, watching the places of their death. Others were creatures who came to the mortal realm willingly, either there to cause mischief, or to just watch the world go by. Either way, Ryou wasn’t going to interfere. They were just living their lives, and so was he.

“Little Ghost Boy,” called one of these spirits, causing Ryou to stop. The voice had come from the hedges along the sidewalk, and perched atop it was a young man. His black hair was spiked up, tipped with red, and accented with the stray blonde streaks that seemed to defy gravity. He wore a school uniform, one from Domino High, and Ryou recognized him immediately. 

“That’s not my name,” he answered, sounding less irritated than he felt. Being rude to ghosts wasn’t in his best interest, and given his relation to this particular one, he wanted to keep things calm. “Unless you’re now ‘Stranded Pharaoh’.”

The ghost held up his hands in defeat, and Ryou felt the tension drain out of him as the other came down from his perch to stand beside him. This was Yami, a spirit that Ryou had found months ago, lurking around the Kame Game Shop. He was quick to anger, and hard to calm down, but loyal once you’d won him over. “Off to work?”

Ryou shoved his hands into the large pockets, grabbing onto some of the items for safety. Yami was a friend, but Ryou knew how fast spirits turned. It was rude to even think it, but he did. Sensing the boy’s unease, Yami changed sides, walking in the street gutter to give him some space. “I am,” Ryou answered after a moment. “Why? Did Yugi send you after me?”

“He wants to play Monster World tonight, along with Joey and Tèa.” Yami copied Ryou’s pose, hands in pockets. 

The boy laughed. “The Nameless Pharaoh, demoted to messenger boy. Didn’t you have servants back in the day for that?”

Yami shot him a glare, and his dim aura flared as anger rose. Jabs about his past were a thin line, and obviously things hadn’t been going well in the research department regarding the ghost’s history. Ryou only laughed, pulling out a handful of salt and throwing it straight into Yami’s face. He gasped, brushing the salt off his face while Ryou cackled, running down the street. It wasn’t powerful stuff that he’d thrown. The only use that salt had was to make ghosts raise their eyebrow at you and question if you really thought something that weak would stop them. It stung like a hard slap on the hand, making pins and needles rise up on Yami’s face and neck. “Ryou Bakura, I place a curse of eternal-”

“Game’s on tonight,” Ryou called over his shoulder, stopping Yami’s curse short. With clenched fists, Yami let himself breathe, releasing the anger and tension along with his hands. The little shit would be in for it tonight when Monster World happened.


	2. Okay This Is A Nice House But The Problem Is This Stupid Ghost On Your Stair Railing

The concern he’d felt around Yami vanished as he ran down the road, slowly drawing closer to the house. It wasn’t like he hated the ghost. In fact, they were good friends. It was just that without Yugi there, Yami got aggressive, impulsive, on a hair trigger. Yugi kept him grounded, more tolerable. Ryou had tried to exorcise Yami months ago, after having come in contact with the Millennium Puzzle he was bound to. Instead, all he’d gotten was an angry spirit that refused to leave without his name.

“I hope this one isn’t like him,” Ryou mumbled as he rounded the corner, holding his bag close. The house he was after was halfway down the street, flanked by neat little places with green lawns and picket fences. It reminded him of those luxurious places you saw in western hollywood movies, the picture of fine but modest living.

Turning through the small gate, Ryou stepped into the perfectly kept yard and looked up at the house. It was two storeys, standing out from its smaller neighbours. It had soft grey paint along the wooden exterior, two white windows with pink curtains, and a porch almost as wide as the house. Upon said porch rested a swinging loveseat, along with a small wooden table, surrounded by wicker chairs. It was the kind of place you brought a friend to drink tea and talk shit about the world. Quietly, Ryou made a note to buy some for his apartment balcony, in hopes he could entertain Yugi or whoever came to visit by the light of the night.

Sitting at the table was what Ryou assumed was his client. She was young, blonde hair sitting upon her bare shoulders. Her white tubetop accentuated her figure, pressing up her breasts and exposing her stomach. A purple skirt covered her lower half, and matching boots were propped against the table, obviously discarded. Ryou racked his brain, and remembered the woman was named Mai. She noticed him, and quickly put out the cigarette she’d been smoking as she rushed to greet him. “Are you Bakura?”

“I am,” Ryou answered, letting go of his bag and extending a hand. Mai took it firmly but politely, giving one solid shake. “You said the place is haunted?”

“Just the second floor,” she answered, crossing her arms. “They said this place was haunted, but that was just because the last neighbor moved out without a word, and they were rather creepy. Some guy in a robe and turban who spoke in a monotone.” Mai waved her hand, trying to get back on track. “Anyway, it was dirt cheap so I bought it. Did the place up, nothing happened, moved in, all fine. It was just once I’d started settling in that things happened. And, it’s only on the second floor.”

That made Ryou raise an eyebrow. Ghosts usually haunted an entire place. They made the domicile their own. This one was being rather reserved. Perhaps it only wanted attention, or help getting out of the house. “Alright, miss Valentine. Do you have somewhere you can stay while I’m working on this?” he asked. “I don’t want to make him angry, and then have him come after you.”

“I’m renting a capsule hotel nearby,” Mai replied, moving back to the porch to retrieve her bag. It was large, and most likely packed with essentials. Digging into the pockets of the bag, she withdrew some paper covered with details and handed to Ryou who accepted it graciously. “I’ll be out of your way then.”

“Take care miss Valentine,” Ryou called, turning to watch her leave. “I’ll have this finished as fast as I can.”

She offered him a smile and a wave as she walked down the street, aiming for the capsule hotel just a few roads over. Ryou waited until she was out of sight to let his posture slump, dragging himself over to the wicker furniture and dropping into it. Just what had he gotten himself into? Most jobs were over in ten minutes. The longest he’d taken was two days, and that had been atrocious. Whatever he was dealing with here was far more dangerous, and a lot more work. The remains of Mai’s cigarette sat in the ashtray, smouldering, and Ryou considered taking a breath of it, only to decide otherwise.

 

After more than enough time procrastinating, including rearranging his bag of exorcism tools, and counting out his pockets full of equipment, Ryou stood and moved to the door. He took a breath and gripped the handle.

Then he let it go.

 

Then he milled around the porch and sat down on the swinging loveseat. Withdrawing a book from his bag, he read it, letting the gentle afternoon breeze move the chair.

After he got halfway through the book, he stood up and went back to the door. He gripped the handle, twisted it-

And rushed back to the wicker furniture to write out some talismans.

Ryou didn’t know why he was putting this off. Maybe it was the fear coiling in his gut, or the insistent feeling that this was dangerous. Most times he could overcome this fear, but this seemed old. Ancient. Dangerous.

Biting his lip, Ryou stood and grabbed the door again. He took a breath to calm himself, to focus, to think. The talismans were there, as was the salt and everything else he needed. He would be okay. This would be fine. There was nothing to fear.

 

With this newfound courage, the handle was turned. Without so much as a creak, the door opened, and Ryou nervously stepped in. One arm held the bag tight as he stepped in, kicking the door shut with his foot. It slammed, hard, and made him jump.

“Calm down,” he mumbled to himself, looking around the room. “It’s all okay.”

“ _You finally decided to show up.”_

Ryou’s breath caught in his throat as he looked up. He was in the entrance room. If he walked straight ahead, he’d be in the backyard. To the left was the living room, and the right was the entrance to the kitchen. There was a staircase on the right side of the room, and leaning on the banister higher up, was a man.

He looked amused, watching Ryou on the ground floor, chin resting in his hand. His hair was similar to Ryou’s, only with part of his fringe spikes up and out. It also seemed to float, as if blown by a soft continuous breeze. A sandy robe covered his body, reminding Ryou of some kind of dress. _“I thought you were going to sit on the porch and sort your Spirit Sticks by colour and size all afternoon.”_

“I was not,” he answered defensively, gripping the strap of his bag with both hands. The ghost laughed, deep and loud, as he moved towards the stairs. Without any effort, he jumped onto the banister and slid down, hitting the little ornament at the end of the rail with little more than a soft grunt. Ryou looked at him, summing up his usual confidence that he held when dealing with stubborn paranormal beings. “You know why I’m here though, right?”

With a hum, the spirit rested his hands on the rail ornament, which Ryou noted was a square engraved with harpies, and set his chin atop them. _“You’re here to drive me out,”_ he answered, head bobbing with each word. _“Or at least try to.”_ He grinned, turning to rest his cheek on his folded hands. _“You could at least give me your name, before you try and annihilate my soul.”_

Ryou physically recoiled, caught off-guard at how blunt this spirit was being. Most ghosts and spectres would just wail and scream until Ryou confronted them, or was forced into action. He’d rarely met any ghosts who were so calm around hunters, let alone one they’d just met. The only other was was Yami, and he had taken months to get to a tolerable level. Taking a moment to collect himself, Ryou managed to speak. “Ryou Bakura,” he answered, then, hesitantly, extended a hand.

The spirit lifted his head and looked at the offered hand, then to Ryou. There was a beat of silence, before he threw back his head in a deep cackle, slapping one of his hands into Ryou’s waiting one and giving a firm shake.  


At this point, Ryou noted several things.

One: This spirit was touching his hand with a solid form.

Two: The power currently coursing through his body made all his hairs stand on end.

Three: The grin this spirit wore was terrifying.

 

In this split second, Ryou saw something else. Gleaming white eyes, blackened silhouette, knife-like teeth in a face-splitting grin, sharp and shining. It was as if the darkness itself had reached out to hold his hand in a firm yet comfortable embrace, and Ryou had no idea how to process this information.

Then, as quickly as it started, it vanished. The hairs on his body calmed down, the energy evaporated, and the pasty translucent ghost with the sandy robe and flowing hair was holding his hand again. _“I have no name,”_ he said as he pulled away, placing both hands in his lap. _“So you can call me whatever you please.”_

“Florence,” Ryou answered in a panic, grabbing the first name he’d thought of. The radio had been playing a song earlier, and the band’s name had caught his ear. Ryou didn’t think the song was that good, but it seemed that it was fine enough to remember part of it.

_“Anything but that,”_ answered the ghost, smiling softly.

“No. No, I like Florence.” Ryou gave a shit-eating grin, watching as the newly dubbed Florence let his smile fade into the neutral face of displeasure. “It’s a good name.”

_“I beg to differ,”_ answered the ghost, Florence, with a grumble.

Ryou’s grin faded slightly as he dug into his pockets, drawing out an incense stick and lighting it. “So Florence, I have to ask. Will you leave this place?”

“No.”

“Then I have-”

 

Ryou didn’t even get to finish his sentence.

Florence grinned, and a rush of wind flung Ryou back. The front door slammed open and Ryou was thrown out, rolling comically down the path leading up to the house, only to land on his butt, legs out and hands behind him, keeping him upright. The contents of his pockets were scattered across the lawn, and his bag, which had come unhooked during the ordeal, was thrown out to him, smashing him in the face.

Laughter came from inside, and Ryou forced himself to ignore the spinning in his vision and look at the door. Florence was hovering in the doorway, avoiding touching the floor. _“Does this convey my feelings on the matter?”_ he asked, slamming the door shut. Ryou merely stared, letting the information process.

Then, he let himself drop onto the path and pass out.

  


When Ryou woke again, the sun was just starting to set. The sky was alive with colour, with blue, pink, purple, and a hint of orange, blending together. There were a few clouds, but they didn’t take away from the image, only adding to it, taking in the surrounding colour. Ryou let himself lay there for a few moments, taking in the peaceful setting. A cool breeze rolled across the garden and Ryou shivered, pulling the blanket close and snuggling into his pillow.

Wait.

He sat up abruptly, feeling pain lance up his back at the sudden motion. Covering his lap was a blanket, and it only took a moment for Ryou to recognize the My Little Pony design on it. He’d seen more than enough of the stuff, having been exposed to it during one particular housecall with a stubborn ghost haunting a child’s room. Kicking off the sheet, Ryou turned to stand, only to see the pillow he’d been resting on. It had Barbie on it, smiling and holding a handbag. The pink background stood out, even in the evening light, and Ryou grumbled as he grabbed both it, and the blanket.

Sparing a look back to the house, he saw Florence sitting in the window, middle finger standing tall. It complimented the grin on his face, and Ryou huffed, grabbing his bag and rummaging around the garden for his dropped items. The salt was ignored, seeing as it was nigh impossible to pick all the grains up again, but the rest of the items were gathered and shoved into his pockets. In a final act of pettiness, Ryou folded the blanket up and placed it atop the pillow, then lifted both into his arms, marching down the path and out onto the street.

“Stupid spirit,” he cursed as he marched off. His newfound possessions fit snugly under his arm, and Ryou started to think of what he’d do with them. Perhaps use them as guest bedding, or just have it somewhere as a backup. Maybe he could give it to Yugi, who-

He began to run, holding all his possessions close as he booked it down the street.

  
If he didn’t hurry and get home, Yami was going to read all his Monster World paperwork.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I found a few prompts about Ghosts over on tumblr and mashed them together. Ryou, given his interest in the occult, seemed perfect.
> 
> I don't know about an update schedule yet, but if you end up liking this, lemme know.


End file.
